


Cool Kids

by orphan_account



Category: The Strokes
Genre: Bad Ventillation, Cool Jazz, M/M, cool kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lots of dialogue. Just talking and kissing a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool Kids

**Author's Note:**

> You know?

Though it was the evening, a time when many head home from work, the infamous rush hour, this street and bordering sidewalks are barren of people. 

A door swings open on this street, releases two bodies, and shuts. Life approaches.

A streetlamp lights up, as the sun is setting. Its light among others cast themselves at the ground and surrounding areas. This one in particular is shining onto an aforementioned young man, who puffs smoke into the night air. Another boy has stepped behind the other into the light, holding out his hand expectantly.

"I'm out. Come on."

"No, I'm pretty sure you're here to look at Albert and Jules' alley." 

"Shut up," He shoves the other man, "Give it here, buddy."

Fake-reluctantly, he hands him a cigarette. "Fine, but you owe me next time, Fab Man."

Fab gratefully snatches it and pecks his friend's cheek. "You'll forget."

"That may be true. Need a light?"

"Nope."

And Fab lights his cigarette and puffs the smoke into the air satisfyingly, similar to the way his companion did minutes ago. They stay like that for a while. Smoking, looking around the street in mock-interest, playfully shouldering each other.

"Nick, we're the embodiment of the stereotypical cool kids. Right here."

Nick chuckles at that.

"Oh man! We're total douchebags. Look at us in our skanky chucks and rad jackets. Fuck." And they both laugh a bit.

 "No, we're just enjoying the night. It feels kind of like, when you're listening to cool jazz. This is the experience."

"I'm pretty sure I know what you mean- I mean, it's a weird way to put it."

Nick pauses to take a thoughtful drag.

"It's actually pretty cool."

"I agree, cool kid."

"Fuck off."

"Whoa there, wasn't an insult."

"Shut up. It was when I said it."

"But not when I said it."

"Whatever."

"We'll forever be Nick and Fab, the coolest kids on the block. The embodiment of  _cool_   jazz."

They both smile a bit smugly and smoke out their cigarettes under the light of the streetlamp.

Nick briefly acknowledges that the sky is relatively clear. There are a few fluffy clouds here and there, which Nikolai mumbled about making for a rad multi-colored sunset when he came over earlier.

"So, what brings you out here?" He suddenly says after this train of thought.

"Should've asked earlier. They need some fucking open windows. Couldn't really stand for all five of us to be blowing smoke everywhere with nowhere for it to go."

"I apologize on their behalf for ancient windows."

"What idiot thinks that it's fine to paint windows shut? If I ever own a building, I'll never do that."

"Good to know!"

"Shut up."

Fab puts his out first, despite Nick having started before him.

"At least you have heat."

"Oh, Fab, don't think I don't know what _that's_ like."

"I was surprised that you didn't fly south for the winter. Good thing I came over so much, eh?" Fab raises his eyebrows and Nick giggles fondly and puts him in a friendly headlock.

"I'll show you flying south for the winter!"

"What point are you trying to get across?"

"I don't fucking know, man." And with that, they burst out laughing and flopping all over the place. That was hilarious.

They quite down and Nick lights 2 more cigarettes for them.

 "But seriously, it was like some old school or something, it had those pull-down blinds and I had to use the oven to heat the place- of course, when I  _had_ to."

More transitional smoking. 

"Remember when I had a heroin dealer on my floor?"

And they talked about ridiculous apartment experiences for the remainder of their smokes. They then throw the ends in the margin between the stairs to the buildings. 

Fab sighs, "You're pretty cool, Nicky." and hangs off of his shoulders.

"Not to bad yourself, Fab man." And turns his head to kiss the other as they go inside the apartment door.

 


End file.
